 ?.e 
A PASSING GLANCE AT THE FLORA OF PALESTINE. 183 
been, a characteristic feature of the sacred soil. I could not but 
admire the xsthetic effects of the gray-green hue of the hedges of 
Prickly Pear, which was the right background to throw off to the 
greatest advantage the golden hues of the oranges and lemons 
which they enclosed. Each round fleshy leaf of the Cactus hedge 
shone in the rays of the sun, as if it had been a mirror. 
In the wide Plain of Sharon there was, notwithstanding the 
earliness of the season, a wonderful profusion of Crocuses and 
Cyclamens, and, above all, Scarlet Anemones— Anemone coronaria. 
Oh, those Scarlet Anemones! I never saw such a gorgeous 
spectacle in all my life. It was worth going all the way to see 
this alone! The fields for twenty miles, uninterrupted by a single 
hedge-row or boundary-wall, were covered with them, as if the 
land was on fire. They glowed in the vivid sunshine, that made 
their soft velvety petals almost transparent, like flames in the 
heart of afurnace. We began at first to gather them at every 
halt, so intoxicated were we with their beauty ; but so vast was the 
abundance that familiarity had its usual effect upon us, and they 
subsequently retreated into the background of our consciousness, 
though they added vastly, all the same, to our insensible enjoyment 
of the Palestinian landscapes. This was undoubtedly the flower 
which our Lord must have had in His mind’s eye, when He bade us 
consider the Lilies how they grow. I saw it flourishing in myriads 
on the Horns of Hattin, where the Sermon on the Mount was 
delivered ; and it must have been in full bloom there when our 
' Saviour stood on the spot. Red was the royal colour in the 
East ; and therefore the Scarlet Anemones must have suggested 
to our Lord the robes of Solomon; and certainly never on any 
king’s garments was there such a wealth of glory diffused as these 
Plains of Sharon exhibited, decked with myriads of these flowers. 
The too-dazzling hues of the Anemones were relieved by the fresh 
light-green of an extraordinary species of Squill, called the Urginea 
Scilla. It grew in thick succulent tufts, with broad tender leaves 
like those of a Leek, and looked altogether like a tropical plant, 
so luxuriant was its appearance. It had a great white bulb as 
large as a good-sized turnip. It covered the ground for miles, 
and grew sometimes to the exclusion of everything else. It was 
a perfect pest to the peasants; and we saw them everywhere 
busy uprooting it. Heaps of the bulbs, with their withering 
B 
